Eppie looked up steadily; but now the outer vision was but a dim symbol, a reflection, vaguely seen, of the inner vision that, in a miracle of accomplished growth, broke upon her. She did not think or know. Her heart seemed to dilate, to breathe itself away in long throbs, that worshiped, that trembled, that prayed. Her strength was turned to weakness and her weakness rose to strength, and, as she looked up at the sky, the stars, the dream-like constellations that bloomed and drifted away, universes made and unmade on the void, her mind, her heart, her spirit were all one prayer and its strength and its humility were one.
She had known that she loved him, but not till now that she loved him with a depth that passed beyond knowledge; she had known that he loved her, but not till now had she felt that all that lived in him was hers forever. His voice, his eyes, might hide, might deny, but the seeking, instinctive hand confessed, dumbly, to all.
She had drawn him to her by her will; she had held him back from death by her love. His beloved hand clasped hers; she would never let him go.
Looking up at the night, the stars, holding his hand, she gave herself to the new life, to all that it might mean of woe and tragedy. Let it lead her where it would, she was beside him forever.
Yet, though her spirit held the sky, the stars, her heart, suffocated and appalled with love, seemed to lie at his feet, and the inarticulate prayer, running through all, said only, over and over, “O God, God.”
Meanwhile Grainger leaned against the wall, puffing doggedly at his pipe, unrepentant and unsatisfied.
“There, that is the end,” Miss Barbara sighed. “How very, very pretty. But they have made me quite sleepy.”
A few fumes still smoldered at the edge of the moor, and the night, like an obscure ocean, was engulfing the lights, the movements; after the radiance the darkness was thick, oppressive.
Eppie knew, as Gavan released her hand, that his eyes again sought hers, but she would not look at him. What could they say, here and now?
He went on into the house, and Grainger, lingering outside, detained her on the steps. “You forgive me?” he said.